


You Can Stay At My Place

by rubyofkukundu



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22850893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyofkukundu/pseuds/rubyofkukundu
Summary: What happened in Crowley's flat?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 66





	You Can Stay At My Place

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: this fic contains spoilers for the final episode of Good Omens.

Aziraphale joined Crowley on the sofa.

"So." Aziraphale clasped his hands in his lap and looked around at the room. He coughed. "Here we are."

"Here we are," agreed Crowley.

"In your flat," said Aziraphale.

"In my flat."

"The world is still here."

Crowley nodded. "The world is still here."

"And so are we," said Aziraphale.

"And so are we," said Crowley.

Silence happened. At first it was a little bit of silence, but then it stretched on. And on and on until it became a big, looming, hulking silence.

"I shouldn't really be in your flat, should I?" said Aziraphale, staring intently at the wall in front of him.

Crowley shrugged.

"I mean," continued Aziraphale, "it's dangerous. You might _tempt_ me!" He gave Crowley a shocked glance and then looked away. "Are you going to _tempt_ me?!" he asked the wall.

Crowley shrugged again. "Well," he said. "It is what I do."

"I shouldn't like to be _tempted_!" said Aziraphale.

"No," agreed Crowley. "Of course not." He looked at Aziraphale, who refused to meet his gaze.

The big, looming, hulking silence gave birth to another silence. And that silence gave birth to another one: three generations of silences.

Crowley's mouth had curled into a smile. Aziraphale was blushing at the wall.

"Well then?" asked Aziraphale after a few more silence children had appeared. He gave Crowley an exasperated look. "Are you going to _tempt_ me or not?"

In response Crowley merely gestured at himself, sprawled on the sofa, with a lazy hand. "Here I am," he said.

Aziraphale huffed, appearing, it must be said, to be rather disappointed. "You're not trying very hard."

"Am I not?" Crowley slithered forward until he could whisper into Aziraphale's ear. "Then just how hard do you want me to be?"

Aziraphale flushed darker. "Oh," he said, but a moment later he straightened and leaned away. "I mean: no!" he cried, looking beseechingly at the window. "Do not even try, foul demon, for you won't get far!"

Crowley didn't reply.

After several moments, Aziraphale turned to find Crowley smiling at him. Aziraphale's face broke into a smile too.

"I have a bed, you know," said Crowley, gesturing with his head to the door.

Aziraphale sighed and sagged. "I really shouldn't though, should I." He glanced at Crowley's hand where it lay on the back of the sofa, but didn't take it. "The people upstairs wouldn't like it."

"I think it's about time we stopped worrying about what they will and won't like," said Crowley.

Aziraphale sighed again. "I know, but it's still a sin, isn't it? I really shouldn't be sinning."

"Well..." Crowley leaned back and shrugged his shoulders. "There are lots of things that are sins which aren't actually bad. Eating an apple isn't _bad_."

"I suppose," said Aziraphale reluctantly, "but this isn't quite the same, is it? I mean, there was Sodom and Gomorrah for a start." He opened his mouth, then closed it. "Actually," he said, turning to Crowley, "what did happen in Gomorrah?"

Crowley shook his head. "Dunno. Wasn't that your lot?"

"Oh." Aziraphale frowned. "I thought it... What about Sodom?"

"Nope," said Crowley.

"Oh," said Aziraphale again. "I had thought..."

"You thought it was us," said Crowley, sounding rather smug. "You thought I was there."

"Well..." said Aziraphale.

"All this time and you thought I was there!" Crowley was smiling.

"It was just a guess," said Aziraphale. "Just a passing thought. Not a... I certainly didn't dwell on it."

"Mm?" said Crowley. "And what did I do in this passing thought?"

Aziraphale flushed. "I don't really think that needs to be discussed."

Crowley laughed and gave him a fond smile. Aziraphale pouted and turned away.

"Oh, come on then." Crowley leaned forwards. "Let's head to the bedroom. You want it... I want it..."

"I _shouldn't_ ," said Aziraphale.

"Well, neither should I," reasoned Crowley.

"You?" Aziraphale turned to him with a frown. "Why ever not? You're a demon. Carnal relations: surely that's what you do."

"Carnal relations?" wondered Crowley out loud. "Who calls it 'carnal relations'? It's sex!"

Aziraphale jumped in his seat. "Yes, fine. Call it what you want, but it's what demons do."

"Exactly," said Crowley.

Aziraphale looked at him. "I don't understand."

"Sex," said Crowley. "That's what demons do."

"And?"

"I," said Crowley, "don't."

Aziraphale stared at him. "You don't?"

"Not for a while," admitted Crowley. He waved a hand. "I mean, it was fine and all, but at some point it started losing its charm. You see, I found that if it wasn't with a particular person then I wasn't particularly bothered. And so I stopped." He raised his eyebrows. "The folks downstairs wouldn't like it if they found out I'd been saving myself for one person, and for so long."

Aziraphale took a breath. "How long exactly?"

Crowley pursed his lips. "About five hundred years?"

Aziraphale's mouth fell open. He was blushing very much. "Oh," he said, "Oh Crowley!" and kissed him.

***

Some two hours later, Aziraphale settled his head back against the pillow and pulled the bed-sheets up to his waist. "Well," he said, "that was _lovely_."

Crowley smiled at him from the neighbouring pillow.

"Truly _lovely_ ," continued Aziraphale. "Honestly, I don't know what all the fuss is about. Why would they prohibit _that_? It's not harming anyone, it's not hurting anyone, and, really, when you consider how good..."

"No," countered Crowley, raising himself on one elbow. "No. Sometimes people _are_ hurt." He grinned. "They like it that way."

Aziraphale paused mid-sentence. He sat up. "They like it to hurt?"

"Oh yes," said Crowley.

Aziraphale looked rather alarmed. "Well, anyway. Putting that to one side, I can't see how anyone could have a problem with what _we_..."

"Oh come on," said Crowley, leering at him. "Wasn't there at least some wickedness in it? You must admit that it was a little bit wicked."

Aziraphale blushed. "I don't know about that."

"What about when we..." Crowley tilted his head and raised his eyebrows. "...you know."

Aziraphale gave him an embarrassed smile. "That was rather _piquant_ , wasn't it," he admitted happily.

Crowley smiled in return.

Silence stretched between them, but this one was a pleasant silence, like a fleecy lamb lolloping through a field of candy floss and dandelion fluff.

Finally Aziraphale sighed. "I suppose we ought to decide what to do tomorrow," he said. "They're going to come after us, you know. We'll need to be prepared."

"No," said Crowley. "Not yet." He put an arm across Aziraphale's chest and dragged him back down to the bed. "We'll have time to prepare later." Crowley snuggled closer. "First we enjoy the afterglow."

"I suppose you're right," said Aziraphale settling into the embrace. "We do still have a bit of time for cuddling."

"Not cuddling," hissed Crowley from beside him. "I don't do cuddling."

Aziraphale frowned. "What do you call this then?"

Crowley stilled. "I am holding you," he said eventually, "diabolically."

Aziraphale smiled. "Then I shall hold you angelically in return." And he did.


End file.
